Page 22 of Until You Say Stay
“Maybe. I haven’t even had coffee yet. I can’t picture anything but caffeine.”
“Plus,” Maren adds, ignoring me, “if he hurts you, you and I will handle it. Very Dixie Chicks ‘Goodbye Earl’ style. We’ve got property with lots of trees. No one would find the body.”
I snort-laugh. “Maren.”
“I’m kidding! Mostly.” She grins wickedly. “Though my money’s onyoubreakinghisheart. Jack acts all tough and player-ish, but I’ve seen him with his family. I suspect that he’s actually kind of a softie underneath. Meanwhile you’re over here with walls so high they’re visible from space.”
“I do not havewalls,” I protest.
“Lark, you havefortifiedwalls, and a moat. With alligators. And the drawbridge is broken.”
“That’s called being appropriately cautious after divorce,” I say.
“That’s called not putting yourself back out there,” she says gently. “Which I totally get. Brandon did a number on you. But maybe letting those walls down a little wouldn’t be the worst thing? Even if it’s just for fun?”
“Maybe,” I mutter, hating that she’s probably right.
“Look, I’m not saying dive in headfirst. Just… don’t shut it down before it starts, you know?” She bumps my shoulder affectionately. “But either way, after how relentlessly you pushed me with Calvin? I’m going to besooooannoying about this.”
“Hey, I was completely right about Calvin though,” I counter with a grin, grateful for the shift to safer territory. “You probably wouldn’t even be married if I hadn’t pushed you out of your comfort zone, past all that—” I throw my hand dramatically to my forehead, “‘It’ll never work! The distance! He’s too perfect!’”
She laughs. “Okay, okay, I get it, you smug brat. Yes, it is thanks to you that Calvin and I are now happily married. I owe you my entire life. You’re the greatest friend who ever lived.”
She gives me an exaggerated bow without breaking her stride, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process.
“Damn right you do,” I say, trying to enjoy this moment despite the guilt eating away at my insides. “I’m the matchmaker queen of Dark River. I should charge for my services.”
She shakes her head, laughing breathlessly. “Seriously though, I’m really happy for you, Lark. Like thrilled. And Jack is lucky to have caught your eye. He should be counting his lucky stars that you’re even giving him the time of day.”
She starts running again, practically floating along the trail like gravity has been reduced by half. I follow behind her. The morning sunlight filters through trees, birds singing overhead. Perfect morning for a run with your best friend, except for the massive lie sitting in my chest.
I’m definitely going to hell for this.
An hour after my run with Maren, I’m in my bedroom trying to figure out what to wear. My closet feels woefully inadequate for a coffee date with Jack Midnight, fake or not.
I’ve already tried on six different outfits. Nothing feels right. Too casual, too formal, too desperate. Coffee with Jack is in forty-five minutes and I’m standing here in my underwear likean idiot, which is completely ridiculous. This isn’t even a real date. So why am I stressing about what to wear?
“Because people will be watching,” I mutter to myself, tossing aside yet another pair of jeans that suddenly look too casual. “The whole point is to be seen. To look like someone Jack Midnight would actually date.”
Do I need to look more glamorous? More sophisticated? More Instagram-worthy? Do Formula One drivers’ girlfriends wear sundresses or is that too casual?
My phone buzzes loudly on the dresser, and I see Maren’s name light up the screen with a text.
Maren:Hope it goes wonderful! You deserve only the best. He won’t know what hit him!
I can’t help but smile, even as guilt twinges sharply in my chest. I reply with a bunch of hearts and a blushing emoji, then shove the guilt firmly to the side, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand.
I reach for a cute red sundress I bought last month. The sweetheart neckline and mid-thigh hem show enough skin to be flirty but still leave me looking put-together. Perfect for summer. I slip it on and study myself critically in the full-length mirror.
“This will have to do,” I tell my reflection firmly. “It’s not like you’re trying to impress him for real.”
My reflection doesn’t look convinced.
I run my fingers through my long black hair. Down seems right for a coffee date, so I add some shine serum Maren got me for my birthday, then use the curling iron to add a few waves. Quick mascara, lip gloss, done.
I grab my purse and keys, take a deep breath. Time to go fake-date Jack Midnight in front of the entire town.
I pull into the parking lot of Perks and immediately spot him.
